Chapter 2 WHISPERS OF THE PAST

The chill in the air followed me as I stepped outside, my mind still reeling from the intensity of Professor Blackwood's gaze. It clung to me, his presence as tangible as the mist swirling through the trees that bordered the campus. The eerie howl I had heard just moments ago echoed in my thoughts, raising goosebumps along my skin. It had felt too real, too raw to be anything other than... something more.

I pulled my jacket tighter around me, but the cold wasn't what unsettled me-it was the lingering question. How much of the legends whispered in the quiet corners of Crescent Falls were true? And if they were, how far did they go?

Growing up, the town's stories had been part of the fabric of my life, woven into the very air I breathed. The forest that surrounded us was older than time itself, the trees standing like silent sentinels, guarding secrets lost to history. I'd spent hours as a child imagining what lurked beyond the thick woods-wolves, yes, but not the ordinary kind. The stories had always hinted at something darker, something powerful.

Now, as I walked across the campus, those childhood fantasies took on a new weight. Professor Blackwood had spoken of myths with a conviction that made them seem real, tangible. His words from class repeated in my mind: "Legends are reflections of our collective fears and desires."

But what if they weren't just reflections? What if they were... reality?

I found myself wandering toward the old library, a place where the past seemed to hang in the air, heavy and oppressive. The thick, weathered volumes there were filled with the kind of folklore that had always fascinated me-especially stories of wolves and the mysterious pack that was said to have once ruled the forests around Crescent Falls.

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, I stepped into the dimly lit space, my footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. I moved through the rows of towering shelves until I reached a section tucked away in the back-the one dedicated to local history and legends. My fingers trailed over the spines of the books, searching for one that had captured my imagination more than once.

I found it: The Wolves of Crescent Falls. The cover was worn, the title barely legible, but it was the contents inside that mattered. I sat down at a small table near the window, the light filtering through fractured beams. As I opened the book, the smell of aged paper greeted me, and I let my fingers trace the faded ink of the first page.

The introduction was simple: "To those who believe, the truth is as clear as the full moon. To those who don't, the shadows remain."

I'd always fallen somewhere in between-too fascinated to dismiss the legends entirely, but too grounded to fully believe in them. Now, though, with everything that had happened recently, doubt was beginning to slip away, leaving room for something else-curiosity, and maybe, just maybe, belief.

I flipped to the chapter on werewolves, my heart picking up speed as I read the tales of wolves that could shift into human form, bound together in packs by ancient laws. There were stories of powerful Alphas, leaders who could command their packs with just a look, their strength derived from the moon itself. But what intrigued me the most were the descriptions of the bond-an unbreakable connection between mates, a force stronger than anything else, something destined, inevitable.

As I read, a sentence stood out, sending a shiver down my spine: "The wolves of Crescent Falls were not just protectors of the land; they were guardians of a power far older than mankind, and they would stop at nothing to preserve it."

I paused, staring at the words as if they held some deeper meaning. Was that why the legends were still so prevalent in Crescent Falls? Were they more than just stories, passed down through generations to conceal a truth that was too dangerous to acknowledge?

I couldn't help but think of Professor Blackwood. His lectures were always rooted in fact, yet there was something about his tone when he spoke of these myths, something that made me feel like he knew more than he let on. Could he be connected to all of this? And if so, how?

A sudden gust of wind rattled the window next to me, pulling me out of my thoughts. The sky outside had darkened, thick clouds rolling in as the sun dipped below the horizon. I glanced at my phone-hours had passed without me realizing. I quickly gathered my things and left the library, the weight of what I'd read pressing down on me.

As I stepped outside, the evening air was even colder than before, biting at my skin. The campus was nearly deserted, the usual buzz of students replaced by an eerie quiet. I hurried toward the dorms, but as I walked, that same sensation from earlier returned-a feeling that I wasn't alone.

The trees at the edge of the campus swayed in the wind, their branches casting long, distorted shadows on the ground. And then I heard it.

A howl.

Low, mournful, and impossibly close.

I froze in place, my pulse quickening. My mind raced, trying to convince myself it was just a coincidence, maybe even a stray dog. But deep down, I knew better. This was no ordinary sound. It was the same haunting cry I had heard earlier, but this time, it felt closer, more urgent.

My heart pounded in my chest as I turned toward the forest, my eyes searching the darkness between the trees. The wind whipped through the branches, and for a moment, I thought I saw movement-something large, something... not human.

Panic surged through me. I took a step back, my breath coming in shallow gasps. The stories I had read in the library, the legends of the pack, flooded my mind. Could it be possible? Could there really be wolves out there, watching, waiting?

The howl came again, this time louder, more distinct. It sent a shiver of dread down my spine, and I knew, without a doubt, that it was no ordinary animal.

I turned and bolted toward my dorm, my footsteps pounding against the pavement. I didn't stop until I reached the door, my hand trembling as I fumbled for my key.

As I stepped inside, slamming the door behind me, I leaned against it, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The silence inside was suffocating, but outside, I could still hear the distant howl echoing through the night.

I closed my eyes, my mind racing. The legends of Crescent Falls were no longer just stories-they were real, and something told me that I was about to be caught in the middle of it all.

Another howl pierced the night, even closer this time. My heart thudded painfully in my chest as I whispered to myself, "What have I gotten myself into?"